


Feeling a Lot Like Christmas

by Guanin



Series: Antipodal Shadows [9]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:47:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guanin/pseuds/Guanin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oswald and Jim have a very merry Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feeling a Lot Like Christmas

Jim had kissed him. Jim had actually kissed him. Oswald had hoped, hoped so hard that this would happen, but he hadn’t really believed it. Jim hadn’t showed any signs of anything since he kissed Oswald on the head that night other than wanting to spend time with him again after that miserable five day gap, but now something had happened and it was the most wonderful, most exhilarating, most intoxicating thing that had ever occurred in his whole life. 

He lingered in the corridor, striving to calm down the happy jitters in his muscles and to shrink his smile down to a less suspicious size. It he went back into the apartment with a huge grin on his face, his mom would know immediately that he and Jim had been doing something she wouldn’t like. Though he had a notion, rightly, as it turned out, that she had seen how close they were. Jim had not been subtle with his affection during the gift exchange, which had excited Oswald at the time, not knowing how to interpret it.

“That man wants something from you,” his mom said as soon as Oswald stepped back inside.

Oh, crap.

“No, he doesn’t. He’s a good friend.”

“He does.” His mom approached him, the sharp look in her eyes refusing to be persuaded. “I saw it in his face when he looked at you.”

Noticed it before Oswald did. How ironic. And incredibly inconvenient. Though she already regarded the entire female population as a potential thief of his affections, so it was hardly a stretch for her, especially when it was true. 

“What exactly is it that you think he wants from me?” Oswald asked, thinking that, if he was right about her suspicions, she would hesitate to voice them out loud. He was right. She took a step back, turning away from him.

“I would rather not say,” she said. “But it is nothing good.”

Of course not.

“Well, if you won’t say what it is, I can’t help you.”

“Look at the presents he gave us.”

“I thought you liked them.”

“Of course I did. He wanted me to. He wanted you to. They’re expensive. He’s charming you.”

Well, yes, but Oswald wanted to be charmed.

“They are not bribes, mother. They are gifts. That’s all they are. Jim wants you to like him because he’s my friend, that’s all. He’s the only true friend I’ve ever had. I’m not going to get into a fight with you over him, especially not on Christmas.”

He picked up the cufflinks from the coffee table, restraining the urge to smile as he remembered their kiss. 

“I’m going to bed,” he said, ignoring her displeased frown to kiss her on the cheek. “Good night, mom.”

“Good night, darling,” she said, capitulating for now.

He’d hear about this again later on, that was for certain, but he couldn’t be bothered to care right now.

````````  
Jim didn't make it back from his aunt's house until two in the morning. It seemed a little late to call Oswald now, although he might still be awake. Probably was. He kept late hours. And he had said that he would come before dawn if Jim wanted him to. Which Jim did. Only... 

Only nothing. He had made a decision when he kissed Oswald yesterday and he wasn't going to insult him by second guessing when Jim actually wanted him. Because he did want Oswald. Badly. He didn't know what this was exactly, but not contacting Oswald right now felt wrong.

 _Are you awake?_ he texted Oswald.

A few moments later, he got a response.

_Yes. Are you home?_

_Just got back. Drive took longer than expected. Damn snow_

_Is it too late to come over? Are you tired?_

_No and yes, a little. But you can come over._

_Maybe I should let you get some sleep._

_I'm not that tired._

That was a bit of a lie, but he didn't want to say no to Oswald. The day had felt eternal. He felt a little bad wishing that the party would be over soon so he could go home to Oswald, but it was his own fault, he supposed for having such inconvenient timing with that kiss.

His phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hi. Are you sure that you want me to come over right now?" Oswald asked.

"Are you afraid that I changed my mind? Cause I didn't."

"No, I didn't think that." 

But Jim could hear the relief in his voice.

"Get over here, Oswald."

`````````  
Oswald made it to Jim’s place eight minutes faster than he usually did. He cursed the pain in his right leg as he rushed up the stairs, but the elevator was too damn slow. A little out of breath, he knocked on Jim’s door, gratified when Jim opened it almost immediately. 

“Hey,” Jim said, grinning at him.

Oswald smiled back, the pain in his leg fading away. He stepped inside, reaching up to pull Jim’s face to him, hesitating at the last second, still afraid that Jim might come to his senses and say no, but Jim quickly closed the distance between them and kissed him as soundly as before, his mouth tasting like a blessing. This was heaven. He gripped Jim’s back, one hand stroking up Jim's short hair, gasping when Jim wrapped his arms around him and pulled him flush against his chest, pressed so tightly that Oswald was afraid that he would break if he moved, Jim’s warmth dispelling the winter chill that had frosted his skin on the way over. Jim tugged at Oswald's coat. 

"You might want to take this off," Jim said against Oswald's mouth.

Letting go of Jim, Oswald cursed buttoning up the coat all the way as he struggled to get the constricting fabric off his torso as quickly as possible. 

"I said take it off," Jim said, laughter in his eyes. "Not rip it off."

"I'm not ripping it. I'm just taking it off quickly. Goddamnit."

His watch was stuck on his left sleeve. Now he really was ripping it.

"Can you hold this sleeve while I get my watch unstuck?" Oswald asked.

"Of course."

Jim gripped the sleeve while Oswald held his arm up and fiddled with the watch until the crown came free. There was a small tear in the lining fabric, which would usually annoy him, but he couldn't be bothered to care right now. He tossed the coat in the closet over the hanging clothes and turned back to Jim, who was regarding Oswald's clothes with a soft smile. Oswald looked down at his navy blue sweater and grey slacks, not noticing anything amiss.

"What? What is it?" he asked.

"I've never seen you dressed so causally before. Other than when you slept over and I loaned you my shirt."

"Oh. I mostly dress like this at home. I have to maintain a certain appearance when I'm out of the house."

For my job, he almost added, but the last thing he wanted to do right now was remind Jim that he did things that Jim put people in prison for. 

"Makes sense," Jim said, stepping up to him. "Still, if you're going to come over straight from your house, you don't have to stand on ceremony for me."

Jim placed his hands on Oswald's waist, fingers gentle, barely pressing as he leaned forward to kiss Oswald, a quick peck.

"I like this look on you," Jim said, meeting his eyes.

"Oh. Then I'll wear sweaters for you more often."

Jim's hands slipped under said sweater at Oswald’s back, his fingers skimming lightly over Oswald's skin. Oswald’s breath grew short at the touch. He leaned against Jim’s chest, hands bunching on his sweater, and kissed his neck, skimming up to his jaw, pushing Jim’s sweater up, feeling the hard muscle he had seen one day when Jim changed shirts in front of him, before he knew how Oswald felt about him. How it quickened his heart to caress him now, warm and beautiful and welcoming Oswald’s touch.

“Your hands are cold,” Jim said, leaning his head to the left as Oswald nuzzled the side of his neck.

“Sorry. They always are.”

“I don’t mind.”

Removing one hand from Oswald’s back, Jim gripped Oswald’s left hand, his warmth spreading quickly through Oswald’s fingers. 

“Can you warm the rest of me like that?” Oswald asked.

“It would be my pleasure.”

Grinning, Oswald pulled him down for another kiss, then tugged at Jim’s sweater.

“It would help if you took this off.”

Letting go of Oswald’s hand, Jim did as instructed, and Oswald stared at his gorgeous torso and his own hands lying on it, still amazed that this was actually happening.

“Fair’s fair, Oswald,” Jim said, tossing his sweater on floor.

“What?”

Oswald’s brain short circuited for a moment, then he looked down as Jim started pulling his sweater up.

“Oh. Of course.”

But he hesitated, knowing that his own torso was nothing to look at, too pale, too thin, muscles barely showing, if at all. He pulled his sweater over his head slowly, letting the fabric cover his face for longer than necessary to delay seeing Jim’s reaction. 

“Oswald?” Jim asked as Oswald peeled the sleeves off his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. Of course I’m okay.”

“You suddenly looked nervous. What’s wrong?”

Jim stroked soothingly up and down Oswald’s back, his hands feeling so wonderful, so caring.

“Nothing. I just know that I look better with my clothes on than off.”

“What?” 

Jim took a step back to gaze at Oswald’s chest and Oswald had to force himself not to turn away in fear of what he might see in Jim’s face, but then Jim kissed his collarbone before diving further down, right hand sweeping up Oswald’s stomach, rubbing his left nipple with his thumb as he kissed down as far as he could go while still standing up. Oswald gasped, his sweater slipping from his hands as he clutched Jim’s hips.

“You’re beautiful, Oswald,” Jim said against Oswald’s skin. Oswald’s eyes slipped closed at the delightful sensation. “I love looking at you.”

“Even with my shirt off?”

“Especially with your shirt off. I’ve been fantasizing about getting you naked since I kissed you.”

Finally, Oswald allowed himself to smile. He pulled Jim into a kiss, hands steady at the base of Jim’s neck.

“Then I’ll oblige,” he said. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”

Once there, they kicked off their shoes and socks, and Oswald pushed Jim down on the bed, climbing atop him. He tried to straddle him at first, but his injured leg protested the stance, so he lied atop Jim instead, kissing him as he rubbed himself against him, yanking Jim’s belt open. Jim did the same, pushing Oswald’s pants down to squeeze his ass, one hand slipping between his cheeks, making Oswald gasp, his erection pressing into Jim’s stomach.

“Did… Did you like that?” Jim asked, looking uncertain.

“Yes.” Oswald met his beautiful, concerned eyes. “Please do it again.”

Jim pressed his hand further in this time, fingers gentle, a little too gentle. Oswald encouraged him by spreading his legs, then finally grabbing Jim’s wrist and guiding him along.

Jim chuckled, sounding nervous. 

“I’m going too slowly for you?” he asked.

“Torturously. You can touch me. It’s okay. I want you to.”

Jim’s fingers finally reached his hole, stroking along the rim, the sensation making Oswald’s breath quicken against Jim’s neck, his hips arching back as Jim slipped a finger inside, so careful, so afraid of hurting him, but Oswald’s grip didn’t slacken on his wrist, so Jim delved further in, another finger joining in, stretching him.

“Like that?” Jim asked.

Oswald nodded, panting. 

“Yes. You don’t have to be shy with me.”

“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m so far from uncomfortable right now. You can do anything you want with me, Jim. I’m yours. I’ve been yours for a long time.”

With his free hand, Jim coaxed Oswald’s head up to meet his eyes.

“I want what you want,” Jim said, eyes so earnest. “I’m not just going to impose my desires on you. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oswald reached between them, unzipping Jim’s jeans to palm his erection. Jim gasped, grasping Oswald’s hair, breath growing heavy, his head pressing back against the mattress.

“Fuck me,” Oswald said.

Jim nodded.

“That I can do.” Jim kissed him. “Will love to.”

Grinning, Oswald pulled Jim’s fingers out and stood up to finish taking his pants off. Jim did the same, giving Oswald a liberal view of the gorgeous ass he had guiltily ogled more than once in those perfectly tailored dress pants Jim wore for work. 

“I have condoms somewhere,” Jim said, looking around the room. “I left them in my jacket. I’ll be right back.”

While Jim did that, Oswald lied on the bed, trying to pose in an enticing fashion, but his right leg wasn’t cooperating and curling up on his side made him feel too much like a pin up girl, so he opted for propping his upper body up on the pillows, raising his hands over his head, and bending his left leg up, swinging it back and forth a little when Jim came back in. 

“I feel like I’m forgetting som-something,” Jim stuttered when he saw Oswald, the condoms crinkling in his hand, his jaw dropping with desire, sending a jolt of relief and delight through Oswald. 

“You like me like this?” Oswald asked.

“Hell yes.”

Oswald’s smile widened so much that his face would start hurting in a minute. 

“Good,” he said. “This is how I want to have you.”

Jim nodded, words apparently failing him. Oswald regarded him properly for the first time, overwhelmed that this gorgeous man would soon be fucking him into the mattress. Jim kneeled between his legs, tearing one condom off the packet and tossing the rest on the floor. Oswald noticed what was missing. 

“Do you have lubricant?” he asked.

“What? Oh, shit. I knew there was something else.”

“I have a jar of Vaseline in my coat. I brought it just in case.”

“Already knew what you wanted, huh?” Jim said with a grin.

“Jim, I’ve been wanting this for weeks.”

“I’ll go get it.”

Returning with the Vaseline, Jim got on the bed again and opened the jar, dipping his fingers in the lotion.

“I should warn you,” Jim said. “I’ve never done this before.”

“With a man or at all?”

“Both. None of the women I’ve been with wanted to and I’ve never had sex with a man. I made out with one in college, but that was it.”

Oh. Oswald had been wondering if Jim had been with a man before. It made him feel special that he was the only one that Jim had gotten into bed with. 

“So I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Jim continued, looking chagrined. “Apart from some googling.” 

“That’s okay,” Oswald said, laying his hand over Jim’s on the jar. “Actually, I haven’t really, either.”

“Really?”

“I never got this far. So we’re pretty much even. Although I’ve probably done more reading than you.”

“Hence why you remembered this,” Jim said, raising his lotioned fingers. “Okay. I’m still taking your lead, though.”

“Alright.”

Oswald shifted his left foot closer to his hip, raising himself up a little. His right thigh hurt when he tried to repeat the motion, so he left it for now.

“Just,” he said, “spread that on my hole a bit. You don’t need to go too deep, I don’t think.”

Jim did as instructed, the coolness of the lotion making Oswald shiver when Jim touched him, fingers probing as gently as before, dipping inside a tiny bit. Oswald’s hand tightened on Jim’s, head pushing back on the pillow as he unconsciously pushed himself onto Jim’s fingers, panting again as pleasure radiated from where Jim touched him. 

“God, you look so beautiful right now,” Jim said, voice airy.

Oswald opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and almost moaned at the fierce desire burning in Jim’s eyes.

“So do you,” he said. “I think that’s enough. You can fuck me now.”

Jim chuckled, removing his fingers. Oswald let go of his hand, but as soon as Jim closed the jar and put it aside, he grabbed Oswald’s hand and sucked his index finger into his mouth, encircling Oswald’s digit with his tongue as he drew it back out. Oswald did cry out this time, both at the sight and the sensation. 

“Damnit, Jim, don’t make me come before I feel you inside me.”

Jim laughed, kissing Oswald’s palm in apology. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I got an urge. You have such nice hands. I’ll get to the fucking now.”

Jim tore into the condom foil. 

“Good. Not that I don’t encourage things like that, just…”

“Priorities?”

“Yes.”

Jim put on the condom, then lied atop Oswald, pushing his left leg forward with his hand. He touched Oswald’s right thigh.

“Shouldn’t you lift this one, too?” he asked.

Oswald tried raising it again, but he didn’t get far before that damn ache flared in his bone again. He cursed Fish Mooney to the deepest, filthiest pit of hell.

“That’s the best I can do,” he said.

Jim massaged the pained muscle.

“Would it be easier in another position?” he asked.

Oswald shook his head. 

“I want to try it like this. I want to see your face.”

“Okay. We’ll play it by ear, alright? I don’t want to worsen your leg.”

“Okay.”

Cradling Oswald’s left thigh over his arm, Jim positioned himself. Oswald put his hands on Jim’s shoulders, breathing as evenly as he could, telling his muscles to relax. At Jim’s first push, he tensed, his breath hissing between his teeth, but he anchored himself in Jim’s concerned gaze, willing the tension to fade a bit.

“Any time you want to stop, you tell me,” Jim said. “Don’t stay quiet for my sake. I would hate myself if I hurt you.”

Some of the nervousness racking Oswald’s bones faded Jim’s concern.

“I’ll tell you,” he said. “I promise. It doesn’t hurt, just stings a bit. Keep going.”

That might have been a bit of a fib, but Jim would forgive him. It really didn’t hurt too much. Jim started pushing in again, more slowly this time, and Oswald appreciated it. Reading about it did not give him anywhere near a good enough idea of what it felt like to have Jim inside him. He tried to even out his breaths to see if that would help, but it was easier said than done. Jim’s shoulders were shaking under Oswald’s hands, his head tilted slightly down, but he kept his gaze fixed on Oswald’s face. Once he was fully in, he stopped, his hip pushing against Oswald’s right thigh, which was a little uncomfortable, but not enough to mention. 

“Are you okay?” Jim asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Does it feel good for you yet?”

“Not yet. I’m still getting used to what it feels like.”

“But you are okay?”

“Yes. I assure you. I am okay. You can move again.”

Jim started pulling out, then wriggled a bit as his grip slipped on Oswald’s left leg, his movement driving sparks of pleasure up Oswald. He cried out, and Jim immediately stopped. 

“Why are you stopping?” Oswald asked.

“You cried out. Was that good or bad?”

“Good. Very good. Do what you just did again.”

Jim did and Oswald felt it again. His fingers dug into Jim’s shoulder, hips pushing forward.

“Did I hit your prostate?” Jim asked.

“I think you did.”

Oswald grinned.

“Want me to do it again?”

Oswald frowned at Jim, who was smiling at him, eyes teasing. 

“You better or I’m kicking you off this bed.”

“It’s my bed,” Jim said, already pulling back, still slow, but not as much as before. 

“I don’t care.”

Jim thrust forward, a little faster, hitting that spot again. Oswald moaned. 

“Keep aiming right there. That’s an order, Detective Gordon.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jim quickened his pace, every thrust striking just a little harder, Oswald’s moans rising in volume to match. Jim leaned his forehead against his for a moment, his panting breaths mixing with Oswald’s, their gazes twinning as Jim raised his head again, eyes never deviating from him. There was tenderness there, affection so deep that Oswald feared calling it love. Jim couldn’t love him. He liked him. Cared about him. That was all. Jim was still in love with Barbara. Oswald knew that. He had seen it in the dejection in Jim’s eyes enough times to not realize it, no matter that he was the one Jim was pleasuring right now. Oswald couldn’t lose focus of that. It would do no good to fool himself by imagining emotions that weren’t there. He would rather focus on what was. Affection. Concern. The need to make sure that Oswald was enjoying himself. That he was not being hurt. And desire. Pure, burning desire for Oswald. No one else’s shadow was lurking behind Jim’s eyes now. Jim was looking straight at him, thrusting inside him like he needed it to breathe, wanting no one but him. Oswald was sure of it. Jim’s eyes couldn’t lie to him like that. In this moment, right now, Jim was his. Completely and totally his. 

Jim came, collapsing on Oswald, his breaths harsh in Oswald’s ear. Oswald rubbed his back, relishing having Jim in his arms just a little longer despite the fact that his erection was growing more uncomfortable by the second. He reached down, squeezing his hand between their bodies to stroke himself, but Jim lifted himself up, shimming down Oswald’s body.

“I’m sorry,” Jim said. “I forgot about you for a second.”

And before Oswald could respond, he licked up Oswald’s shaft, drawing another groan from him. Jim took him in his mouth, not all of him, but what wasn’t enveloped in heavenly warmth, he stroked with his hand, his grip firm, yet not to tight on his base. Oswald didn’t last long, twisting the blankets in his hands as he came, crying out,

“Jim!”

“Did you just moan my name?” Jim asked.

Oswald had to replay the words in his brain for them to make sense, momentarily forgetting how language functioned.

“Yeah,” he said. 

Jim kissed Oswald’s raised thigh.

“It sounded amazing.”

Oswald’s eyes slipped shut. He smiled, feeling perfectly content.

“You were amazing.”

After throwing away the condom, Jim lied beside him, tugging him close for a kiss.

“So were you,” Jim said.

Oswald tucked his face into the crook of Jim’s neck, delighting in the wonderful scent of Jim’s sweat. He could lie here forever and be happy. With Jim’s arms wrapped around him, he drifted off to sleep. 

```````  
Jim awoke to Oswald’s sleeping face inches away from his own. Oswald was curled into a ball pressed against Jim’s chest, one foot tossed over Jim’s calf. The contact felt good. Comforting. Jim hadn’t shared a bed with anyone since Barbara. Just a month ago, he would never have imagined that the next occupant would be Oswald. Propping his head up on his hand, Jim watched him sleep. Oswald had the blanket up to his chin like when Jim saw him asleep on the couch. Last night had been nice. Very nice. Jim considered waking Oswald up with a blowjob to make up for his sad attempt at one the night before, but it was only 8:35. At least one of them should get a proper amount of sleep. Jim was only awake because his body was trained to get up early. 

Reaching under the blanket, Jim lifted Oswald’s foot, shifted onto his back, then placed the foot back on his legs, not wanting to lose the contact. His hand lingered, tracing Oswald’s anklebone with his thumb. It was his bad leg. Jim had tried to put as little pressure on it as possible, but it was inevitable after a certain point. He really hoped that he hadn’t made Oswald’s pain worse. Maybe next time he should insist on a different position.

Next time. He wanted a next time. Earlier, he hadn’t been sure. Maybe he would reconsider, come to his senses, realize how messed up things would get if he had sex with Oswald, then decide that they were better off as friends. That might still happen, but the possibility grew ever more remote the longer that Jim held onto Oswald’s ankle. It relaxed him. And made him want to stroke up Oswald’s leg and pleasure him again.

 _I just took my best friend’s virginity_ , he thought, realizing that this was the first time that he had referred to Oswald as his best friend. Now he had a new term he could add. Boyfriend. Did it fit? He had been a boyfriend, but never had one. Partner? Maybe Oswald would prefer no term at all. Some people weren’t into them. It wasn’t like they were going to be telling people, anyway. He wasn’t going to introduce Oswald as his boyfriend to anyone. That would be foolhardy. Just them being friends was dangerous enough. But, amongst themselves, it might be nice to have something to call each other more intimate than “friends”. He suspected that Oswald would like that. 

After lounging around with Oswald for about an hour, he couldn’t ignore his growling stomach anymore and got up to make breakfast. Pancakes sounded about right for a lazy morning after sex. Yup. Pancakes it was. Oswald appeared when Jim was almost done cooking the eggs, the pancakes already stacked half a foot high on a plate at the table. His limp looked no worse than usual, which was a relief. He looked like a sleep mused porcupine with his hair sticking up every which way with no rhyme or reason. A fleece blanket was wrapped around his shoulders, the fluffy green complementing his eyes. Jim wished he had a camera on hand to take a picture of him right now. This was worthy of framing. 

“Good morning,” Jim said, turning off the stove to go over and give Oswald a hello kiss.

“And a very good morning to you,” Oswald said when they separated, a dopey smile on his face. “Are you making me breakfast?”

“I am. You cooked for me enough times.” Jim rubbed Oswald’s back, unable to help himself. “I only burned two of the pancakes.”

Maybe four.

“Hmm,” Oswald murmured, nipping at Jim’s neck, teasing, little pecks that made Jim’s brain mushy and his body perk up, but the hunger pangs in his stomach tightened painfully, sensing that Jim’s attention had shifted. 

“Oswald,” he said, placing his hands on Oswald’s shoulders, yet not quite pushing away. “I really would love to do this right now, but my stomach might kill me if I don’t eat.”

“Okay,” Oswald said, stepping back. “I don’t want you to go hungry. Later, though?”

Jim had been struggling to resist, but the sliver of uncertainty in Oswald’s voice made him lean down for one more kiss.

“Later,” he said. 

“This is good,” Oswald said while they were having breakfast.

“You sound surprised,” Jim said.

“Well, you protested enough times about being no good as a cook. You can’t blame me for believing you.”

“Alright, that’s fair. This is basically it, though. Making dinner wouldn’t come out anywhere near as well.”

Oswald’s cell phone started ringing. Oswald groaned, getting up to get it. 

“Hang on,” he said, walking over to the closet. “I’m going to murder whoever’s calling.” 

Jim watched the blanket trail behind him, knowing that he didn’t mean that literally. At least, he hoped not. 

“Oh, shit,” Oswald said. “It’s my mom.”

Jim’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.

“Did you tell her where you were going?” he asked.

“At two in the morning? That’s too transparent. She’d kill you. Hi, mom. I’m not dead. I know it’s still Christmas, but stuff comes up. Well, I didn’t want to wake you.”

Oswald’s voice faded as he returned to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Jim put his fork back down, appetite shrinking in fear. Oswald’s mom (Jim’s mother-in-law?) would certainly not approve. Of anyone, much less a man. Hadn’t it been a goal of his once to have a normal, stable, drama-free (as much as could be hoped for) relationship? Normal was not a word that anyone would apply to Oswald. Stable might need redefining. And drama-free was so laughable that it might as well be a joke in a Marx Brothers movie. 

Seeking to distract himself with something mundane and manageable while Oswald finished lying to his mom for Jim’s sake, he got up to open the blinds in the living room. He stared out at the alleyway, spotting Oswald’s car. It was blanketed with snow from last night. Jim kind of wanted to sneak out right now and clean it off so Oswald wouldn’t have to, but his call wouldn’t take much longer. 

He felt a prickling at the back of his neck, making his body tense up. Stepping back to the edge of the window, he surveyed the ones of the building next to his, trying to spot someone through the array of blinds and curtains, but saw no one. The feeling faded, gone as quickly as it came, but the impression that someone was watching him lingered. It was probably just a neighbor peering out the window for a moment, but he tugged the blinds shut again just in case. 

“I’ve got to be home by evening at the latest,” Oswald said, coming back into the room. “She’s being suspicious. But we have the whole day. What’s wrong?”

He frowned at Jim as he returned to the table, noticing Jim’s disquiet.

“Nothing,” Jim said. There was no point in worrying Oswald when he was probably just being paranoid. “I just don’t want your mom to chop me up into fish food. She’s a little scary.”

“Don’t worry. She won’t actually do anything to you. Maybe yell at you and curse you and all your descendants if she finds out, but I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”

“Okay. I can live with a little yelling. Although I would rather she didn’t curse me.”

“It wouldn’t actually do anything.”

“I know. It’s still a little nerve wracking.”

He glanced window. Just a little nerve wracking.

**Author's Note:**

> The rating finally went up. :)
> 
> Thanks so much for the comments and kudos, you guys! They kept me going during my busy workweek.


End file.
